


What Happened at San Rafael

by SydneyFlaire



Series: Bayani Universe [17]
Category: Goyo: Ang Batang Heneral (2018)
Genre: Acceptance, Brothers, Fighting until death, acceptance of death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2018-11-21
Packaged: 2019-08-24 22:58:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16649467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SydneyFlaire/pseuds/SydneyFlaire
Summary: Anacleto Enriquez, the Hero of San Rafael, was the man whom Goyo idolized the most; that when he died, Goyo immediately asked Anacleto's brother, Vicente, his soon-to-be aidé-de-camp, how the previous had fallen in order to know how to die for the sake of their country out of that love.





	What Happened at San Rafael

**Author's Note:**

> A spin-off story for the previous one-shot that was part of the #GoyoAngstStories.  
> You can also see my works on wattpad and fanfiction as "SydneyFlaire".  
> Follow me on twitter @JerseyLeigh for more updates. ;)

The moment that he saw the Church doors opened, he knew that it would be the end. And he knew that it was meant to be. And that there was no other way. And that he was somehow glad that it was just him here. And that there was no greater honor but to be here fighting.

_And that it would all be over in a flash._

The rattle on the church door finally gave in after five hours of hoarding and keeping it shut. After five hours of struggling to remain on guard, keep their lives with them, and think of a way to divert the reality of what was to happen.

But was there any other way?

_Before leaving Paombong, he had called his younger brother’s attention, pulling him aside from the group. His action bewildered the latter, causing Vicente to ask him, “Bakit, Kuya?”_

_He gulped in hard before biting his lower lip and shook his head. He brushed away his hand as if realizing what he had just done. “Wala,” he assured. “Pagod lang ata ito panigurado. May sumagi lang sa isip ko.”_

_“Ano iyon, Kuya? Nakakakaba ka. Alam mo iyon? Minsan, kung umasta ka, Kuya, para ka ring si Goyong,” Vicente chided with a small chuckle, trying to brighten the mood._

_He smiled softly. “Talaga ba? Paano mo naman nasabi?”_

_Vicente stopped for a second to think, before answering, “Basta, Kuya. Pakiramdam lang rin naman. Na parang halos magkatulad ang inyong tadhana.”_

_“Kung ganoon, ipaalala mo sa akin ang iyong sinabi para akin ring masabi sa kanya, Enteng,” he said. “Ibig-sabihin rin ba nun ay nakikita mo rin siya bilang iyong kuya?”_

_The younger Enriquez surrounded an arm of his around his shoulders and laughed a little. “Nagseselos ka ba, Kuya?”_

_He shook his head with a warm soft smile. “Hindi. Sa katunayan… ako’y nagagalak na malaman na ganoon ang tingin mo kay Goyong.”_

Who would have thought that it would be the last time that they’ll be talking? That the two of them will be separated when they were meant to be together?

“Fuego!” He screamed, unsheathing and raising his sword, commanding the soldiers to aim their rifles steady onto the approaching Spanish soldiers whose only itention as well was to kill everybody on sight.

Not even minding if they would be the elderly, women or children. The enemies were just firing aimlessly with the sole intention to leave no survivors.

He also aimed his own gun, managing to fire at least two before being hit by a bullet from the enemy. He was first scraped just by the shoulder. Then, onto his thighs and chest. He fired two others, three others, and four others; too few to the many bullets that had already pierced his skin and organs that caused his uniform to be stained by his own blood.

_Enteng, nasaan ka?_

His thoughts remained with him than to worry over his own safety and his own men and other people who were either dead or in the verge of dying now as the church’s floor started to pool with blood a few centimeters high.

_Sana’y nasa ligtas ka na lugar._

He coughed and choked on his own blood, just as another volley of bullets hit him. His body betrayed his mind and his heart’s will to continue fighting.

But he knew that at that moment, there was no used. And he had already accepted the truth.

That the real details of what happened on that day of his death would be a mystery for the future to just guess _exactly_ the events.

But, at least, despite the future fumbling with the darkness of the past, they would know that he had fought for something that everyone must continue fighting for—the love for our own motherland.


End file.
